Band of Brothers
by scripting life
Summary: Because, as much as I love Caskett, there's more to Castle than just a love story. A collection of oneshots revolving around the fraternal bonds between Beckett, Esposito, Ryan, and Castle. 2. There's no one she trusts more to have her back.
1. First Kill

_A/N: While I love exploring Castle and Beckett's relationship as much as the next girl, the relationship between Beckett and her boys, Castle and the boys, and the boys themselves have intrigued me just as much. Thus, the idea for this little collection was born. _

_This will be a collection of unrelated oneshots that focus on the fraternal bonds between Beckett, Esposito, Ryan, and Castle. Each oneshot will stand alone, and I'll write these as I think of them._

_(**Lost and Found** is being a pain in the butt for me right now. It's so frustrating because I know what I want to happen, but I can't seem to find the right words for it. Gah. I promise I'm still writing it though.)_

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Disclaimer: As incredulous as it may seem, I do not make any monetary profit from this work of fiction about fiction. _Castle _and all affiliated characters, places, and things are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC Studios.

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**Characters**: Esposito, Beckett  
**Summary**: Esposito helps Beckett through her first kill.  
**Date posted**: October 5, 2012

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_No man is an island_  
_Entire of itself._  
_Each is a piece of the continent,_  
_A part of the main_  
_If a clod be washed away by the sea,_  
_Europe is the less._  
_As well as if a promontory were._  
_As well as if a manor of thine own_  
_Or of thine friend's were._  
_Each man's death diminishes me,_  
_For I am involved in mankind._  
_Therefore, send not to know_  
_For whom the bell tolls,_  
_It tolls for thee._

- John Donne, "No man is an island"

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**1.**

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He finds her puking her guts out in the alley by the station.

Esposito doesn't really know Beckett all that well; she's a uni for Vice and he's on ESU, so it's not like there's much overlap there.

He's heard about her though. Yeah, he's heard a hell of a lot about Kate Beckett. Smart, driven, hot as hell, but…haunted.

Cops are terrible gossips, so he knows the whispers.

Beckett joined the force because her mom was murdered and they never found her killer. She worked her ass off during her time at the Academy to graduate top of the class. She's been rumored to be on the reckless side when it comes to street work, but there's never been any complaints about paperwork filed incorrectly or evidence mistakenly handled. Supposedly, she has great instincts, and the uppers are already talking that if she could learn to curb her brash tendencies just a bit, then she'll be on the fast-track for promotion.

A real rising star.

She doesn't look much like a star right now though.

Esposito wonders if there's supposed to be something ironic—or is it poetic? Hell if he knows; he's not a writer—about the fact that she's puking her guts out in an alley right now, when her mom was stabbed to death and left to bleed out in an alley four years ago.

Either way, it sends uncomfortable chills down his spine.

Esposito debates whether or not he should approach her. From what he's heard and observed about Beckett, she doesn't like being seen in her vulnerable moments, and this is most definitely a vulnerable moment.

But…this isn't something that anybody should be alone for.

A brief flash of anger courses through him for her training officer. He should be the one coaching her through this, but the last he heard, Michael Royce had put in his papers for retirement now that Beckett finally made it through the probationary period. There are rumors about the two of them, and Esposito'll be damned if he knows what the hell's up with all that.

But whatever the situation is between the two of them, it doesn't make it okay for Royce to let her deal with this on her own.

"It's different, isn't it? When you're close enough to watch the light go out of their eyes?" Esposito's a little surprised at himself that he spoke, but now that he has, he figures he might as well go all in. "When _you're_ the one who took the light away."

Beckett tenses, wiping her mouth with jerky motions before she turns to face him.

Goddamn, she is beautiful. Her hair's a mess, her eyes rimmed with red, and her cheeks pasty, but damn it, she even pulls off the _I just threw up my lunch _look.

But she's so _young_.

This girl shouldn't be a cop. She shouldn't have to deal with the heavy weight of blood on her hands, even if that blood was a guilty man's blood.

"It's part of the job," she responds, and he's impressed with how steady her voice is. Nerves of steel.

Esposito shakes his head. "Naw. That's not how you get over it."

He can almost see her spine stiffening, the way she draws herself up and narrows her eyes at him. "I'm fine, Esposito."

"No, you're not. You're just pretending you are. You should never be _fine_ after a kill. We're people, not machines."

She straightens up, her eyes dark pools in the dim lighting of the alley as she studies him. He gets the unsettling impression that this is what a bug under a microscope would feel like.

"You were Special Forces," she recalls from one of their few, prior interactions.

He grins wryly, memories of chaos and war easier to defeat with grim humor than languishing in the darkness of trauma.

"Yeah. So I should know."

They just stare at each other for a while, cop measuring up cop, and he wonders if he shouldn't just leave it at this. Truth is, it doesn't really matter what he says. It's always up to the individual to get over that first kill.

If she can get over it, she'll get over it, no matter what he says.

But something about her makes him stay.

She's too young.

Esposito was nineteen when he joined the Army, twenty-five when he went on his first tour. That was also the year that he first shot and killed a man. Twenty-five isn't much older than twenty-three, but he's thirty now, and twenty-three seems a lifetime ago.

There's just something about her makes him want to protect her even though he's known a couple of guys bigger than he is who've gotten their asses handed to them by Beckett on the mats.

She's strong enough to protect herself and then some, but maybe it's the prehistoric man in him that wishes she didn't have to.

"Does it get easier?" she asks, the husky edges of her voice slicing through the sounds of mid-afternoon traffic.

He shrugs. He's always preferred acting nonchalance. "Yes and no. The nightmares never go away completely, but the need to rub your hands raw eventually dulls. You learn...not to tune it out, but to live with it."

She nods.

They both know that any words absolving her of guilt are empty, so he doesn't bother giving her any. She did what needed to be done according to the rules, and in the eyes of the law, not only had she done nothing wrong; she'd done what was right.

It doesn't stop her from feeling sick to the stomach for what she had to do and will undoubtedly have to do again, though.

She gathers herself, brushing back her hair and straightening her uniform. Then she holds her head high and with deliberately measured steps, walks past him and back toward the rest of humanity. She allowed herself this moment of weakness, but no more.

She pauses, her face half shaded by the corner. "Thanks."

And then she's gone.

She isn't the first person Esposito has talked through their first kill, and with everyone else, he always makes sure to emphasize one point.

But with her, he doesn't even bother.

He can already tell that there's no fear of her ever dehumanizing the dead.

If anything, Beckett will always feel too much.

And she'll have to be so much stronger than anyone he knows to handle that level of empathy.

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_A/N: It's a bit different for me writing from a perspective other than Beckett or Castle's. Still, I'm rather pleased with how it turned out. Let me know what your thoughts are! Thanks!_


	2. Unbeatable

_A/N: Wow! I'm kinda surprised that so many people have expressed interest in this little collection. Thank you so much for your feedback, and I'll try not to disappoint with these. :)_

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**2.**

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**Characters: **Beckett, Esposito, Ryan  
**Summary: **Together, they are unbeatable.**  
****Date posted: **October 11, 2012

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Beckett's roughly exhaled breath bounces off the wall she's pressed against and blasts its oppressive heat straight back at her. The wood is abrasive against her cheek, but she dares not move even that fraction of an inch to give herself some space.

The slightest shift could give away her position, and this is too important for her to blow it just because she's uncomfortable.

The problem, though, is that she's been here for far too long; she'll get caught soon if she doesn't find another cover, but she hasn't received the signal from Ryan yet that will put their plan into play.

She needs to wait just a little longer, but the pounding rush of her heart thump-thumping in her chest makes it difficult to focus. Adrenaline speeds through her veins, and she holds her body still purely through sheer force of will.

This is _her_ plan, _her_ strategy. She knows it's a sound one, utilizing both Esposito's strengths as a sniper and Ryan's ability to sneak through the cracks to their advantage.

But with each ticking second that crawls by, the sweat trickling down the back of her turtleneck and making her head itch beneath her protective facemask, she worries if she'd sent her boys on a suicide mission.

_No!_ she berates herself.

She can't let herself think like that. She has to have faith in her team.

And she does. They're the best at what they do. They won't fall that easily.

She trusts them with her life. They won't let her down.

That's when she sees it.

A single yellow flag flaps in the air, and Beckett knows her boys have done it. The rest is up to her.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she holds it in for a few seconds, and then she's bursting from her hiding spot in a sudden rush, her aim the abandoned shack about thirty yards from her current position.

A hail of bullets greet her the moment she exposes herself, and she dives behind the ruins of another wall to catch her breath, the empty spot where she once stood now puckered with splashes of red. She smiles grimly to herself when the barrage abruptly ends; Esposito did his job and took out her assailant.

Halfway to the shack now, she scans the landscape with a practiced eye. By her count, the opposition still has two shooters out there. Ryan lured half the group away with a diversion, and Esposito just took one out. He'll be on the lookout to pick off another, but he won't know their location until they start shooting at her.

Two shooters. She just needs to make it past two.

She can do that.

Without giving herself another moment to doubt herself, she breaks from the wall in a dead sprint, the muddy ground sucking at her soles and making her thighs burn, her rifle gripped tightly in her hands.

She's ten yards to the shack when the shouts go up, and her head's a maelstrom of turbulent emotions; dread that they'll cut her down before she makes it and barely-suppressed euphoria that she's just a few steps away from accomplishing the mission.

She's so close to victory that she can taste its sweetness on her tongue when she hears it.

"Beckett, duck!"

Without a moment's hesitation, she tucks her chin into her chest and falls forward into a roll. The bullet whizzes just past her to land with a sickening _splat _somewhere to her left.

Beckett rolls fluidly into a standing position and finds herself standing right next to the little dilapidated building. She rips the flag from the post at its side, the move eliciting a chorus of groans, even as a disembodied voice comes crackling over the loud speakers.

_"It looks like that's the game, folks. For the third year in a row, Team Beckett from the 12th Precinct wins the NYPD's annual paintballing tournament. Give it up for Detectives Kate Beckett, Javier Esposito, and Kevin Ryan!"_

Beckett rips off her goggles with a triumphant laugh just in time for Esposito and Ryan to nearly tackle her in their enthusiasm.

"Attaway, Beckett!" cheers Esposito while he and Ryan exchange one of those elaborate handshakes she never really got the point of.

"Thanks for the warning," she says to Ryan with a grin.

The detective's blue eyes are bright with boyish enthusiasm. "Don't mention it. We got your back."

Then the boys exchange a mischievous look, and Beckett breaks away to level them with a mock glare.

"Don't you _dare_ try to lift me up again," she warns. "It was embarrassing enough when you did that last year. Don't make me break your arms."

Esposito and Ryan sputter out a chain of rapid denials, but to be honest, she's still too high on the victory to bother keeping them in line.

Various members of the force from the many departments and precincts come up to congratulate them, and Beckett can't keep the grin off her face when Captain Montgomery presents them with the cheap plastic trophy her team has now claimed for the third straight year.

It's a ridiculous little statue that looks like it might have been picked up from the dollar store, but the swell of pride that rises up in her when she wraps her fingers around its base is nearly overwhelming. It's a tangible sign that when her team works together, they're unbeatable.

The crowd of cops make their way to the grills, the mouth-watering aroma of a massive barbecue feast attracting the scores of hungry officers like flies to honey, Beckett finds herself flanked on either side by her teammates.

When Detectives Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan had been assigned to her squad, she'd been skeptical at first. Esposito seemed too much like the macho type to be willing to take orders from a woman, and Ryan had looked so fresh-faced and green that she wondered if he could be an effective street cop.

But their years together have seen the tenor of their relationship evolve from mutual skepticism to burgeoning respect to true camaraderie. Together, they became a _team._

In a somewhat uncharacteristic move, she slings an arm around the necks of both her boys as they exchange good-natured barbs at each other and exaggerate their feats of bravery on the battlefield.

Beckett can't think of anyone else she'd rather have to watch her back than these two men right here.

Even in paintballing.

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_A/N: Heh. Action sequences aren't my forte, but I had fun with it. :) For those of you who might not know, there are many variations of the games/objectives you have for paintballing. The most straightforward is, of course, just splitting into two teams and seeing who gets everyone on the other team out first. When I went, we also did variations of capture the flag, protect the base, take out the leader, etc. The one I used in this oneshot is capture the flag._

_Oh, and this is set about a year before they all meet Castle._

_Anyhow, I hope you guys had fun with this one. Now I really want to go paintballing. :D_


End file.
